Prior to the previous Snettisham trip, I’d visited Valley Paint to pick up stain for the cabins.  It was a disappointing trip, as I'd hoped to get all the necessary stain and painting supplies down to the homestead that weekend.  Instead, I was queried about the type of stain I'd applied previously.  I really didn't know, but was told that if it was the surface building kind I'd want to strip it off before applying a penetrating kind, as the surface building kind provides a lovely little home for mildew to grow behind it.  A little nervous, but still hoping that Valley Lumber hadn't sold me the "wrong" kind, I promised to bring back the leftover stain so they could tell.  So the following Tuesday I showed up at Valley Paint at lunch with my mostly empty 5 gallon bucket of stain that I'd retrieved from the homestead over the weekend; I'd read the label and noted that it was called "penetrating," but one look and the guy knew exactly what it was--the wrong kind.  So we talked about how to strip it off and whether to go with an oil or water based stain afterwards and I made an order.  After work I swung by again and picked up a five gallon bucket of chemical stripper, two five gallon buckets of teak colored water based stain, and one five gallon bucket of clear coat.  What I'd hoped would be a one step process (now that I'd scrubbed all the cabins) turned out to be a four step process: 1) strip, 2) bleach (because the existing stain was protecting the mildew when I scrubbed it), 3) stain, 4) coat.  Needless to say, it was a discouraging day and I became somewhat panicked about the rapidly waning summer and my busy July schedule.  How many sunny weekends were there likely to be when I wasn't otherwise engaged?  Eventually I decided that I simply needed to take off from work at the first sunny opportunity unless there was something really important to stay for; thankfully, my boss was fully on board with this plan.  In the meantime, though, I could strip the stain and bleach the cabins in any weather.  As I planned to be in town over 4th of July weekend, I decided to take Thursday and Friday off of work to prep the cabins.

Consequently, it was a busy week!  Chris, Dave, and I returned from a weekend at Snettisham on Sunday evening, and I left again after work on Wednesday, loaded down with 20 gallons of chemicals in the bow of the boat which I'd loaded along with fuel over a rainy lunch.  I left around 5:45, heartened by the relative calm of the channel.  The seas built as soon as I entered Taku Inlet and I started another very long trip to Snettisham.  I stopped for a bathroom break in the lee of Grand Island and saw two seals on the same rock as the previous trip.  I was sad when they slid into the water (after I'd passed).  I watched one of them bob in the water while I sat on the side of the boat and wondered again how long it takes them to reclaim their spots when startled off; a moment later I was delighted to see it inch up onto the seaweedy rock.  From there I passed into what is usually one of the two worst areas in a southeasterly.  Surprisingly, the water went from choppy to flat calm as I crossed and I started to think we'd have a nice trip down after all.  However, past Grave Point 2-3 foot swells came endlessly from across Stephen's Passage and I took them off the starboard bow, sloshing into the troughs.  The larger one caused the five gallon buckets on the bow to slide to the right, which worsened the impact of the swells and caused the bow to drop deeper into the trough and closer to the leading edge of the next swell.  Many times I opened the hatch and moved them to port, only to have them slide back again.  The seas built and I tired of fighting them, regretting bringing my old dog along to get pushed and banged around.  We finally passed the Seal Rocks, but the seas built there again and I started getting into larger, tighter pairs of swells.  The shoreline on my left seemed to move at an agonizingly slow pace, but I was finally able to turn into the Port and the put the swells behind, working my way to the southern shore to gain more shelter.  Half way along I passed a sea lion in the water (unusual at this time of year) as well as two ice bergs close to the winter sea lion haul out (I've never seen them so far inside).  Hoping I'd at last put the chop behind me, I was disappointed by the rough water in Gilbert Bay.  Close to 9:00 pm I finally made it to the homestead and started unloading on a falling tide.  It was far enough out that I anchored the boat where we went aground, pulling the anchor and chain straight downriver so the boat didn't wind up on the rocks.  It could have been a lot worse, but hauling those four buckets over the slippery rocks and up onto the porch was pretty unpleasant.  I was still in my mustang suit, which had kept me suitably warm during the long ride, so was a bit overheated when I finishing hauling.  Consequently, I had some dinner with no fire and went to bed.

The next morning saw the start of what may be the most intense Snettisham work trip yet.  It was focused, repetitive work.  There were no wildlife encounters to break the monotony (I took so few breaks there hardly could have been), not even any whales breathing in the inlet to distract me.  A flycatcher whistled occasionally overhead, but he's much cheerier in the sunshine.  I didn't have a bad time of it, but I was pretty dazed by the end.  The first task was to strip the stain off the cabins, so I put on old clothes, rain pants, rain jacket, and hat that I don't particularly care for, chemically resistant gloves, and rubber boots.  The stripper itself was pretty interesting, a cherry colored gel that poured in glops from the bucket (after I nailed a few holes to let it breathe).  I mixed it with equal part water (rendering the mixture a pink grapefruit color) and started slopping it on the walls of Cottonwood with a big brush after wetting them down with a new hose (the previous hose leaked).  It went relatively fast and I was particularly delighted with the paint brush holder that screwed into a pole I'd bought at Valley Paint for painting overhead.  That pole completely eliminated the need for ladder work.  So started an endless circular trek around the cabins, dragging the hose from one to another.  I wanted to waste no time, so while one cabin was letting the stripper do its job, I was wetting and applying goo to the next.  Before I was done, though, I’d have to go back and rise off some of the walls of the previous cabin.  The stripper only works for about 45 minutes, so I could usually do two walls, then rinse two walls, and so on.  Each time I moved between cabins I needed to haul the hose to hook it up to the appropriate valve, which made for A LOT OF HOSE HAULING.  I probably drug that hose around the property thirty times over two days.  I cringe when I think about the hundreds of spiders and other creatures burned or drowned to death by my activities.

Cottonwood before stripping	Cottonwood after stripping (the first time)	Mink being stripped
Accessing the attic for painting supplies	Stain dripping down the wall	Taku Harbor on the way home

So there isn't much more to say about the first day.  I got started at 8:30 and worked until 3:30 without a break.  At that point, having stripped three cabins, I decided to take care of an increasingly insistent stomach.  I made quesadillas and ate them on the porch and managed to make a few phone calls on the satellite phone with an unusually strong and persistent signal.  After lunch, I stripped the fourth cabin, taking off the board that has sealed up the broken window on the uphill side in order to access the wood beneath.  When that was finished I decided to wait until the next day to bleach the cabins when they were a little drier and I was a little less worn out.  I thought the stripper had done a great job and I was feeling optimistic, though I did find that the walls were quite blotchy when I rinsed them off.  The color of the wood was a nice red when wet, but turned quite dull when it started to dry--a good sign, I thought, that the stain was gone.  That evening I decided to bleach the ceiling of the lodge porch in preparation for restaining the cedar there.  It looks great, but I want to protect the color.  The bleaching was easy.  I used a combination of Jomax (a chemical the enhances the potency of bleach), bleach, and water mixed in my garden sprayer--3/4 cup Jomax, 2 1/4 cup bleach, and water makes a gallon of de-mildew solution.  It was pleasant enough misting the whole roof with the sprayer (not so pleasant for the myriad arachnids who call it home, however).  Rinsing it off was another story.  I have no accessible valve at the lodge, so can't hook up the hose.  Instead I hauled one small bucket of water after another from the kitchen sink outside, tossing them at the ceiling until it was all rinsed off.  It was a wet and messy affair.  I'd put down plastic on the porch to protect it, which made things a bit slippery, but I didn't want to bleach it out.  I must have carried 30 or so buckets of water across the floor!  When I was done I toweled off the floor inside, rehung the hummingbird feeders (I think I may have accidentally misted a few unwary hummingbirds with bleach!) and quit for the day at 9:30, eating some boxed pasta, rye bread, and wine.  I lit a small fire, read for a few minutes, then went to bed.  Unfortunately, I found my bottom sheet wet from water making its way through the tape covering the broken window.  I didn't feel much like moving cabins, so I laid down the top sheet (which was dry) and slept on that, turning the dry side of the pillow up.  It was a little hard to warm up, but I put on socks and a wooly shirt and finally drifted off to sleep.

I had the next day all planned out.  I'd bleach and rinse all the cabins, then start putting more trim around the windows in the lodge, leaving no later than 3:00.  Things changed when I stepped outside and....discovered that there was still stain left on the front of the cabin.  And the back of the cabin.  And, in fact, every wall of every cabin except the side wall of Hermit Thrush.  I wasn't ready to bleach after all, and that blotchiness I'd seen was apparently the difference between bare wood and stained wood.  So I started all over again, first with Harbor Seal, then Hermit Thrush, then Cottonwood and Mink.  The former two seemed to have the least stain left on (just sections here and there), so I didn't strip everywhere on every wall.  The worst places were above my reach, the places I'd used the pole.  So much for its efficacy after all!  I wound up using a ladder with every cabin, slopping stripper on wherever needed, especially on the undersides of the porch ceilings (which had had the least weather exposure and hence the least wear).  The other two cabins I did corner to corner, as there was a sizable amount of stain remaining.  When they were done, I used the garden sprayer to bleach Harbor Seal and Hermit Thrush, being reasonably hopeful that they were now sufficiently stain-less and I could at least have two cabins stain-ready.  I wouldn't know until the walls had dried on the other two whether the second coat of stripper had done the job.  Nor did I have time for them.  It was 2:35 by the time I finished bleaching the two cabins, and I needed to hustle to get ready to go.  I hastily washed the dishes, swept the floor, packed up, cleaned out the garden sprayer, newspapered the windows, turned off the propane, locked up, and hauled a load down to the water.  After kayaking out to the boat I put in five gallons of fuel, brought the boat back, hauled the kayak up to the porch, grabbed the last bit of gear, loaded the boat, carried Nigel onboard, and managed to get underway at 3:15.  Thankfully, the seas cooperated and I had a smooth ride home, making it to the harbor in an hour and a half.  I found an abandoned harbor cart a few slips away, brought all my gear up, and took off for a shower at home.  I managed to meet up with Chris and Dave at the Alaskan around 6:00 for the start of a festive holiday weekend, not entirely satisfied with the trip, but hopeful that I was stain-ready or close to stain-ready on all cabins and the porch.